


purple skies

by mewtophia



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: A lot of changes to the lore and plot tbh, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Rewrite, Character Death, Claude and Lysithea are magical glass canons a ppt by M E, Claude von Riegan Needs a Hug, Crests (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Crying, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd Needs a Hug, Edelgard von Hresvelg Needs a Hug, Experimentation, F/M, Gen, Golden route, Human Experimentation, Hurt/Comfort, I hate Rhea so there’s going to be a lot of bias when writing her, I say golden route bc all the 3 lords are there, I’m kind of sorry but at the same time no, M/M, Magic-Users, Magical Claude, Not all of them will make an appearance sorry, One-Sided Attraction, One-Sided Edelgard von Hresvelg/Sylvain Jose Gautier, One-Sided Relationship, POV Multiple, Terminal Illnesses, They all need a hug, Transformation, What-If, Younger Claude von Riegan, also no cyril here bc yeah, he isn’t that much younger no worries, it’s MY fanfic and I GET TO SAY WHAT I WANT, not really tbh??, sorry HAHAHAAHAHAH, tbh idk how to tag, yeah golden route, yeah that’s right
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:35:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29105697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mewtophia/pseuds/mewtophia
Summary: In an alternate universe, things have changed and relationships are both made and broken.Darkness lurks beneath.====OR: I attempt to make a golden route. A lot of lore changes, relationships, and a lot of baggage.UPDATE: purple skies won’t be in works any time soon until i manage to make a coherent plot lmao
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan, Edelgard von Hresvelg & Lysithea von Ordelia, Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Lysithea von Ordelia, Lysithea von Ordelia & Claude von Riegan
Kudos: 12





	purple skies

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first big fic for this fandom! :DD
> 
> I’ve done some character changes as well, but I don’t think it’s anything too drastic. Plus, I still intend on trying to make them in character as possible despite some changes.
> 
> Also yay! Went from HowDoesWritingWork to mewtophia lol

Follow the dark mages.

Never defy their orders.

Don’t struggle when they touch you.

Khalid was born to follow these rules. The dark mages infiltrated the palace a year or two after he was born, on Blue Sea Moon… or July, the Almyrans called it. Unfortunate timing, really. There was a feast when it happened, so nobody expected an ambush or an infiltration happening anytime during it. They didn’t know how, or when they knew about Khalid; but they did regardless.

As the youngest of his… maybe ten to fifteen brothers and sisters, he follows them with no complaints. He only defies their orders when he heads to the library to study, to find information about certain things; it’s his job as the youngest, after all.

The younger siblings need to be smart and quick, clever and informed. The older siblings need to be strong and tough, powerful and mighty.

Yet with these mages, they’re all so very weak. Khalid decides he won’t be weak.

He hasn’t seen mama and baba for a while, only talked to them once or twice. They explained to him; he has a crest, he has family from Fodlan. It means he is unnatural, and the mages like that about him. Khalid is the mages’ favorite, he has a crest, so he’s more useful. The room is filled with green and other vials, one says “Macuil”, the other says “Gloucester”, and another says “Dominic”.

Whispers from the mages say that the crest of Riegan isn’t magical, but  _ they can _ make it magical. He sees the green vials more than the other ones, they use it on him, in any shape or form.

Khalid witnesses the same thing on his siblings, it’s horrifying.

Abeer has a seizure until he passes.

Farah screams and bangs her head on the wall until she stops breathing.

Habib lays on his back and internally bleeds to death.

There’s now only 6 to 10 of them left, he doesn’t bother to count anymore. Will that happen to him? He’s terrified of the thought of death, so he follows the dark mages. When they tell him to study, he follows. He carries whatever they give him; he does his best to survive, even if it means following their sick orders, better alive than dead.

He awakens, and strands of his hair are green. The mages see this and test his crest, and there it is.

The Major Crest of Riegan, a crest, a weapon to be used so that they could wipe out anyone they desired. Their eyes bare deep into him, and they tell him, use a spell; prove to them he wasn’t trash, prove to them he wasn’t a waste of time.

They ask for him to erase a training dummy, he erases the entire training room.

And he’s allowed to meet his parents.

“My Khalid.” Mama sobs out, hugging him tight. His father joins in not long later, Khalid feels numb. He hugs back, he doesn’t cry, doesn’t speak. He doesn’t think he’s allowed to, he hasn’t seen mama cry before; neither his baba. They cough into their hands, and his eyes widen from horror. They’re sick, something must’ve happened to cause them to be ill. Despite the sadness and pain, he doesn’t allow the tears to spill, refusing it.

It makes Khalid think: he needs to know who else went through this. Who? Who else were victims of such? The thoughts didn’t last long as he was dragged away by the mages, his mama and baba falling silent as they had no choice but to comply. The mages take him, and they ask for more.

Every spell his casts makes his blood thrum, they sing a song of happiness and excitement when he releases. His crest glows behind him at any given opportunity, yet Riegan boils his blood, burns his skin and bones, and screams for  **more.** More and more until his body gives out, and the mages make him get up and repeat. Riegan screams for release whenever he doesn’t use his magic. It  **begs** to be set free, to be used and make Claude’s body burn up from the inside even more, and it hurts  _ so much. _

They stop when they see that he’s weak to the point an iron sword is considered heavy for him, falling when he’s asked to carry an axe, only able to carry a bow without tumbling over.

It didn’t matter to them; why did it matter? They made a weapon, a powerful one, in fact. But at the cost that he’d die before he even hits his 30s, the news is too much to bear for parents of a young child. It wasn’t until they left when he realized the green substance in the vials they provided was made out of  **blood.** Some unnatural blood, he doesn’t know, but he knows that he’s even more unnatural than before.

They stab him, and he’s back from the dead.

They place poison in his food, and he rests for a day before getting back up again.

Cuts from training make him bleed out a mixture of green and red, and he just knows they weren’t meant to be. Not this much, that is. A small dosage would’ve been fine, he guesses, but a dosage as big as what he was given already proved that he wouldn’t be living much longer.

His crest may heal him even with the most dangerous of situations, but it’s still so scary for him. The fact people wanted to make his death quicker, when he had dreams to accomplish, things he wanted to see to fruition; not only for his own happiness, but to make his parents finally relax after whatever hell they went through that made them ill.

It didn’t help that his last surviving siblings resented him; they may now be only around 5 or so, but that didn’t stop them from hating little Khalid. Blaming him for the tragedies, blaming him for their siblings’ deaths, blaming him for  _ everything. _ He just wants to get away.

And he gets the opportunity.

He’s sent to Riegan, and his grandfather teaches him everything he needs to know. He meets the other noble houses, trying his best to not let anything slip.

He somehow meets the Ordelia girl, Lysithea, and they also somehow form an instant bond. It’s a rare kind, as if he knows that he can trust her; a  _ very _ rare moment. Yet, it feels natural. When they study heavy tomes together on the days they visit each other, only they can understand the concept of each spell, his green strands of hair mix with her own white hair.

It’s almost comforting, knowing that he has someone to call his sibling, even if they weren’t related by any means.

**0000**

_ “Get down from the tree, Claude! You’re wasting our time.” Lysithea nags at him, he rolls his eyes and gives her a lazy smile. Of course she wouldn’t want to waste time, but just this once, he’ll give her what she wants. “Coming, coming! No need to be oh so worried, big sister.” He teases, hearing Lysithea sputter and shout out a “shut it” from below. _

_ Whatever happened before that, he didn’t remember. Everything fades from black as he sees Lysithea’s face contort from anger to horror, kneeling beside him. “Claude! By the goddess, what were you thinking?!” She glares at him, staring at his leg for a bit. He looks and- oh, he broke his leg? He thinks he did. “Oh wow, never thought I could break my own leg like that!” He muses, feeling a slap behind his head and another glare from the white-haired teen. _

_ He feels a bit bad, since Lysithea is angry at him. Well, that already passed. Oddly enough, his leg doesn’t feel broken. It just felt like… he jumped and landed safely, like a normal person would. “Hey now, no need to worry for me. Besides, my leg’s fine now. I think my crest healed it.” Because what else would heal his leg in a flash? If he didn’t feel a spike of pain now, then his leg must’ve been healed already, actually; he could already move it as if nothing happened. _

_ Lysithea, however, furrowed her eyebrows and looked at Claude in the eye. “Crests can’t heal wounds like that, stupid.” She says. _

_ What? _

_ They  _ **_can’t?_ **

_ He purses his lips, resting his head on the grass he’s on. “If it doesn’t, then I’m not sure why my other… injuries before were healed.” He hesitates, but he’s also telling the truth. If crests can’t heal by that extent, then… _

_ “Injuries like what? Surely they weren’t  _ **_that_ ** _ bad like a stab wound.” Oh, poor Lysithea, if only she knew the many times he was stabbed only to survive (he’s surprised no one aimed for the heart yet). He mumbles for a bit, and says, “I injured myself badly during training before. Deep cuts, arrow stabs, all of that.” _

_ Why is he telling her this? It was only the half-truth, but it was a truth regardless. He sees her eyes widen when he says that, and Claude just knows; it isn’t right. Lysithea deep in thought, and she has a face as if… she just  _ **_knows_ ** _ what happened to him. _

_ They sit in silence for a moment, before Claude gets up and Lysithea stares at him with confusion. “Hah! But you know, that’s nothing compared to what some people go through. Can you imagine surviving from hanging? That’s—.” _

_ “The people who did that to you. They’re the same as mine, right?” _

_ He stares at her in shock, her face all serious and pitiful. “People? You gotta be more specific, Lys.” He says, her face puffing from the ridiculous nickname, not for long as her eyes fill with sadness. “The dark mages. They… they’re the reason your crest is unnatural, right? They’re the reason my hair’s white and all, anyways. Surely that must be the reason why you have strands of green hair, as well.” She explains, and Claude feels security for the first time. _

_ It takes a while, but he lets out a sigh and a lazy smile. “Those people are ridiculous. They had…” Claude finds it a bit difficult to speak, but Lysithea stays silent and gives him a look, as if to tell him:  _ **_I’m here for you._ **

_ “They… had green vials. Blood. Green blood.” He says, and Lysithea’s eyebrows furrow at the notion. “Green blood? How is that even possible? Surely, that must’ve been some artificial substance they’ve created.” Lysithea questions, and he answers with a shrug; he really doesn’t know. He waves a hand at her, a signal that he could care less from where they got it. “Regardless, my crest was and still is hijacked from whatever they did. Apparently they wanted the Riegan crest to also access magic. Or something.” _

_ At the cost of his happiness, at the cost of his childhood, at the cost of his parents; who were oh so sick right now. One day, they could die suddenly and then his dreams would fall to ash because he was too late. _

_ “The mages made me have two crests.” Lysithea says, and his eyes widened. Two crests wasn’t possible, but living proof of a twin-crested wielder was in front of his very eyes. “I was the only one to survive the experiments. My mom and dad suffered a lot, since the Empire was watching our every move. They told me I wasn’t going to live much longer.” _

_ He feels pity, but at the same time, he doesn’t. Claude shouldn’t pity her, Lysithea wouldn’t want that anyways. But now he knows, the torture and the pain both of them went through. The fact they understand each other just proves that whatever they’ve gone through was too much to bear. Gods, how long did Lysithea have? They’re both on a race with time, it’s almost laughable. _

_ “Hey. Let’s just lay down for a bit underneath the sun, yeah?” Claude offers, and Lysithea glares at him with a purse on her lips. “Claude, we don’t have time to—.” _

_ “Gods, Lys. Just… just relax for a bit. Please.” _

_ He barely says please, so knowing that Lysithea slowly nods and lays down beside him while looking up at the blue sky in front of them was enough to comfort him. _

_ Oh, gods, when was the last time they actually gave themselves a chance to relax? To enjoy their childhood and not be afraid of the unavoidable future that their fates held? _

_ Even after all those years, it’s terrifying. _

_ “Claude, we don’t have much time left, you know.” _

_ He falls silent, and simply looks up at the sky. Claude didn’t want to accept the truth falling from her lips. _

**Author's Note:**

> If there are any questions, I’ll answer them :))
> 
> I’ll try my best, haha :’DDD


End file.
